Author: John Everex

The last of the flames
curl and blacken the petals
of charcoal flowers

they spite the arid
sucking moisture from the air
finding hidden joys

in the hush they bloom
alighting colour to glow
against the darkness

we wander in step
testing the brittle edges
of former friendships

and days afterwards
we slip reluctant into
our daytime rhythms

while the embers burn
smoke obscuring the mundane
unsettling boredom

we search for berries
the overgrown garden, vast
staining our lips red

unlike yesterday
her kisses are soft and calm
fingers on my brow

she whispers brittle
withdrawing more than she needs
an evanescence

the ward sleeps in snores
and words spoken when sleeping
to rhythmic machines

dawn’s light turning blue
harsh seagulls welcome the sun
and we count ourselves

and yet on the edge
there’s one who remains silent
who slipped on ahead

arcadian June
middle fingers near touching
our creases unknown

a stolen promise
kisses stir my summer’s balm
abvolating time

still, the aged affair
sweeps our old bones and tendons
with separate fires

early morning heat
searching among the bird calls
and the empty parks

fallen food wrappers
discarded in crushed grasses
chaff, slag and jetsam

but this time is ours
vacant, deserted moments
ignore the echoes

the fireflies shimmer
yes, we really did see them
on the night before

those few words hanging
catching on edges, sticking
shading the carmine

you brush them lightly
watch as they imply and blend
in remnant remains

remain hidden then
undecided and obscured
by recent events

the distant buzzard
circles above the suburbs
shadowing the grass

our sunburned bodies
pampered and overindulged
we remain hidden

Underneath a tarp
the machine lay corroding
dry rust flakes crumble

the hawthorn hedgerow
twisting away from the sea
sheep in its hollows

the northbound platform
hand softly raised in parting
or cautious welcome

Regret

a mayfly perches
on the tip of my regrets
swinging the balance

Resist

they resist with smiles
in the street parties below
the cold wind beyond

Promise

a cup of tea steams
in everyday promise
warmth undercover